A Slum Love Crime. (A$AP Rocky Story)

Part Ventinove

I slowly approach the trembling baby, watching her intently as she squirms and cries in Izeria’s arms. The baby was premature, small and fragile. Her little size was even scary in a way. I didn’t want to touch her. She was precious. So she was passed along a line of eager friends and family who were curious about how it felt to have a warm baby in the palm of your hands. That was literal—she barely fit into both of Izeria’s arms. Of course, Rakim was next to hold her. Then, after a few seconds of waiting, the baby is passed on to me. I held her as she watched me peculiarly, studying my every feature just as I was studying hers. Then there was a tap on my shoulder.

“Let me hold her.”

I turned around to see my father towering over me, staring hungrily at the baby. Then he looked at me with a sinister expression. I knew what was going to happen.

My father was going to kill this baby.

The dream ended and I woke up surprisingly calm. These strange dreams involving my father weren’t new to me. The hammock shook as I shifted in it, watching the rest of the guys function. The events that took place yesterday didn’t seem to be affecting anyone besides Rakim.

I’d be lying to say that I felt any type of remorse or pity for him. You reap what you sow—isn’t that what they say? Or maybe I’m wrong, since I’m such a ‘baby’, according to Rakim, the boy who is three years older than me but yet is an adult.

“I’m getting a bit impatient here.” Yams yawned as he sat on the grass of Danny’s backyard. Danny instructed the guys to gather on the backyard and wait for him, but he didn’t return. We were all just out here for no apparent reason.

Well, all except for Ferg. He had some “business” to take care of.

As the guys stood and held occasional conversation, I dozed off. But I didn’t know that one of these annoying dreams would come. The dreams were more of a burden than they were scary. Every time I woke up from one, I would roll my eyes and wish I could just tell the person who operates my dreams to give it a rest.

The sun was blazing, but didn’t generate much heat. I squinted my eyes as I rocked gently back and forth in the hammock. The peace and quiet was growing on me. I liked how serene the environment was; there was no trouble, just light breeze, casual conversation, and—

“Alright, hands up! Get on your knees and put your hands up!”

We all snapped our head to the direction of the voices, seeing a group of maybe ten guys who were obviously packing heat.

We were scared.

We followed their instructions, kneeling down on the grass with our hands in the air. I swallowed hard and considered what most people would do in a situation like this. Pray? I’ve stopped praying for so long, any attempt I made at it again would be completely useless. We might as well just hope to be taken as prisoners instead of killed.

Right when one of the guys aimed his gun at Rakim, Danny materialized beside them. He patted the leading man on the back and they turned around and left just as quickly as they came.

We stared at Danny like he was a mad man.

“What the hell just happened?” Purrp asked, standing up aggressively from his surrendering position. We all did the same.

“You tell me,” Danny replied in a relaxed tone. “What would you have done if they were really here to kill you? Would you get down on your knees and put your hands in the air, or would you try to protect yourself?”

“Well—” Twelvy began to reply.

“No, wrong answer! You wouldn’t surrender, and you wouldn’t protect yourself, because you make it your utmost responsibility to make sure that they don’t find you before you find them. Any interaction between you and them that is not a result of your doing is completely unacceptable and impossible.” Danny preached.